1. 1936 PCL throwbacks
45% (950)

2. 1978 mustard and brown
15% (318)

3. 1984 NL champion duds
27% (575)

4. 2011 Sunday camouflage
5% (111)

5. 2011 home whites
7% (149)

2103 total votes.

I am a sports writer, and therefore, by rite of craft, sartorially challenged. There are exceptions in this dodge — our Kevin Acee and former U-T staffer Jim Trotter immediately come to mind — but for the most part, we are not Fred Astaires and limit our tie wearing to caskets.

I am not a fashionista — or should it be fashionisto? Not Lauren. Not Armani. Not Valentino. Not Dolce and certainly not Gabbana. I don’t wear cheap stuff — I’m kind of Timblerland- and-Columbia-chic — but then, given my physique, I’m more suited for canvas.

Still, I know what looks good. And what the Padres wear while they’re attempting to play baseball does not look good. Mr. Blackwell, if he remained among us, would react to these unis as if he had been led blindfolded into the Walmart racks.

Just what’s up with our professional sports teams and fashion? The Chargers have the power to wear their throwback powder blues — the greatest uniforms in the history of sports (although, I must admit, I love the Blackhawks’ red jerseys) — yet limit their fans this pleasure.

However, even with that, the Chargers look fine in their Spanos blues, just not as fine as they can be. That they actually have the opportunity to be the best at something and decline to do so is their business, but that doesn’t mean it makes sense to those familiar with haute couture.

The Padres have changed clothes more often than a snake. They’re like their roster and starting lineups. Never the same. Even the Swinging Friar, which is a damn nice symbol (if your team name must be the Padres), gets makeovers. Where else can you go with a Padre? Brand the likeness of Antonio Cromartie?

They can’t settle on anything. I look at the Yankees, Cardinals, Red Sox, even the Dodgers. There is history. We know who they are. The Padres are vanilla. Vapid. Vacuous. Vexing.

At least they changed their road uniforms back to gray from sand, which one club employee describes as “our California Highway Patrol unis.” But the road logo “San Diego” is uninspired and not good at all.

Their homies? Blah. They never, ever should wear their dark blue tops. They’re batting practice jerseys. The best thing they put on now are the Sunday-go-to-meeting Marine camouflage jerseys and caps, which not only are distinctive and appropriate in this town, but if the lighting’s right, you can’t see them swing and miss with runners in scoring position.

Simply put, they must go. They must be done right and changed for good and left alone.

“It’s a very polarizing issue,” Garfinkel says. “There are a lot of different opinions, so anything we decide on is going to make some people happy and some people unhappy.”